


I Flunked Logic and Reason 101

by DixieDale



Series: The Life and Times of One Peter Newkirk [50]
Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Peter never dealt well with overwhelming doses of even well-disposed people, and this was no exception.  Everyone understood, made allowances, and he managed well enough.  He sat back, let Caeide bear the brunt of the responsibilities, with Andrew following his lead.  That is, til the story of a long-ago event brings Peter to a new awareness, pulling him out of the shadows, and back to where he belongs.





	I Flunked Logic and Reason 101

Haven was bursting at the seams with people, and also bursting with good feelings and warm thoughts and flurries of conversation; shouts indicating arrivals from the horse field, or departures for a hike on the cliffs, bursts of occasional laughter, and the near constant thud of boots up and down that wooden staircase. Finding an unoccupied room for a bit of solitude was difficult, if not impossible.

Peter knew how much Caeide was relishing the company, and was trying sincerely to not let it drive him mad. Whether by nature or by nuture, he simply was not prone to dealing well with bouts of exuberant gaity, what Louie would have perhaps termed 'bonhomie', nor to a desire for the company of large numbers of even well-dispositioned others, as anyone who knew him well could have told you.

Luckily for him, and for everyone around him, those at Haven DID know him quite well, and by mutual accord, when they saw him getting that walleyed look, and when that vein in the side of his throat started to pulse beyond a certain point, they took turns distracting him. The others at Haven were quite adept at that, though Andrew was the acknowledged master. His distractions often resulted in a loud, "Bloody 'ell, Andrew!!", but they worked, invariably. Caeide's distractions usually resulted in the two of them showing themself back in the crowd a little more flushed and disheveled than when they'd left, but they worked quite well also, and definitely restored a smile to that scared but still handsome face. Maude and Marisol's efforts at distraction followed a somewhat milder road, perhaps in the way of a small errand or chore becoming necessary, but still usually effective. 

It hadn't taken long for certain other members of the family to pick up on all that, and it became almost routine for a signal to pass from one to the other, sometimes a flick of the fingers, sometimes just a tiny jerk of the head in the tall Brit's direction, and SOMEONE would be at the ready, distracting him from that internal twisting and roiling.

Caeide had once described it to her younger sister in these terms, "I sort of envision it like one of those little toys where you keep twisting the rod with the rubber band til it'll get tighter and tighter til it can't go any farther, and when you let it go, it goes mad, either racing across the room or spinning like a dervish or leaping about like an electrocuted frog."

Coura had been slightly appalled, thinking her oldest sister could have found a more elegant way to describe the reactions of her Bond-mate, but when she thought on it, she had to admit it made it easier to explain what she could see happening when too many people got too close, too loud, too jovial and Peter was boxed in and couldn't escape. Once she'd heard that description she could actually see it happening, the initial twisting and each additional turn, with the tension getting tighter and tighter. It also made it easier to sympathize and to connive with her brother Douglas to aid in distracting the man her sister loved so very much.

In truth, the rangy Brit had a spot in the hearts of many of the family, certainly all of the siblings and the parents, and wouldn't have wanted to cause him distress. It was just that the family, even just what they considered the immediate family, was so LARGE that when there was a full gathering, it was, well, FULL. The parents, of course, then eleven siblings of which Caeide was the oldest, Bond-mates for everyone Coura's age and older (and for most it was two Bond-mates, not just one), except for her oldest brother Michael (his Julie not being able to make this trip), and her twin brother Douglas who she rather thought had his eye on someone but hadn't spoken of it yet, plus those who were AS brothers and sisters, including Kinch and Louie and Marya and Cally, and Casino, and Chief and Actor and Lynn. Along with assorted Cousins and a few babies, of course. There was Reverend Miles too, and of course Maudie and Marisol.

Even in a big place like Haven, there were people on top of people and only rare opportunities for solitude. When she thought of it, Coura was surprised there weren't more people running for the hills from an excess of sociability during this week. When that wrestling match in the hallway early morning had woken her from a deep sleep, she muttered a few words to that effect, before pulling her pillow over her head, cuddled closer to her own Bond-mate and trying to catch the last few moments of that rather delightful dream she'd been having. Of course, that cuddling led to waking him with him having his own plans, which put paid to that dream, but delightfully so, enough she had no regrets.

The chores helped; while each of the Haven four might find themselves with one helper, sometimes two, there were never big groups, except with picking fruit in the orchard. The evening story telling, sometimes intermixed with music, helped too; it was a time when most everyone was together, yes, but where only one or two held the floor at a time, telling a story, either true or not, depending on the teller and the intent. The stories ran from fairy tales and old legends to stories about interactions with Outlanders or those even farther afield, plus plenty of reminiscences.

That was a time when Peter could relax, sip at his drink, draw on his cigarette and lean his head back against the wall behind the padded bench he and Andrew tended to favor. That particular bench was along the wall of the alcove, rather out of the way, out of everyone's sight, where he felt more at ease; if he needed to, he could duck out that almost hidden door at the rear, the one that let out in the hallway to the kitchen. And having Andrew there, pressing their shoulders together like they'd done in camp, well, that always tended to ease him down some too.

Caeide was seated closer to the hallway, so that she could fetch food and drink from the kitchen as the need became apparent, letting Maude and Marisol enjoy the evening without having to deal with any of that. She'd started out sitting right by Peter and Andrew as she preferred, their touch enhancing all the richness she would be feeling at this gathering of so many people she loved, til she thought she could feel no more, but she'd found if she took part in the story-telling or the music as was frequently requested, and became the temporary focus, all those eyes looking in Peter's direction made him tense, so she now kept a decent distance away so as to ease his discomfort, though she felt the lack sorely.

The group had been regaled with the story of Charles and Niles, the in-laws of a Clan member who'd made such nuisances of themselves at Haven, as well as at Kalsmith Enclave. ("The Delegation") Ian was describing that tiny two room hut to which the Grandmother had temporarily exiled the two irritating men, in the frozen north, the place the Clan tended to call 'an icicle built for two'.

"A full month she left them there, using cariboo dung for fuel for their fire, melting snow for their water, eating the tinned food that was stored there, before she had me retrieve them. Set them down in Canada, I did, with an envelope containing a reasonable sum of money and an address of someone willing to hire them on as farm labor. No nicer for their stay, surely, and no more humble, but not chancing on being too mouthy for fear I'd just leave them up there. An interview with the Clan representative when we landed gave them their marching orders, so hopefully we'll not have trouble with them again. It's a Jesuit community they'll be working for, so I doubt their nonsense will get them far." 

That led to a snort from Michael, "Sweet Mother, that takes me back! Do you remember that Jesuit instructor we had for awhile, Father John Stevenson? Like most of them, all logical argument and reason; could tie you up with demanding you think through every thought, every inclination and situation, and be able to account for your actions by presenting the logical basis, step by step. You were so occupied with thinking things through, before, during and after, it's surprising anyone ever got anything done! Felt like a millipede being asked which foot I tended to use first and so on! Never so glad to see one of the teachers leave in my life! Still, there some interesting times with him."

He laughed, "Caeide, do you remember those two brats that belonged to Cousin Robin's sister-in-law? That year after you came back from Internship? The set-to with Father John because of them?"

She groaned at him, "and don't I just! Ended up with a project from Father John, minimum two thousand-word paper due and verbal dissertation in the auditoriuim, front of all of the classes currently in session, not even just the ones taking his course! as to the logic of my reasoning, outlining arguments supporting their position and actions, what the logical reaction should have been on my part, and the final justification of my 'illogical' actions. Still remember that, and I agree, I was more than pleased to see him the last of him as well!" 

Andrew frowned, puzzled, "but if you were back from Internship, were you still taking classes? I thought that was sorta the last step."

"Aye, Andrew, for the most part, but Father John never let a little thing like that prevent him from teaching us all a lesson. I wonder sometimes if he didn't rather look on the Clan as his personal challenge, trying to bring us to a realization of the error of our ways, and an attempt to convert us to his. I think he was building up to an attempt of an even more unlikely conversion!"

That got a roar of laughter throughout the room.

"I tried to tell him that at almost fifteen, I had other things to occupy my mind and my time, but he was insistent, said I had been a poor example to the others and to myself, and needed to think things through logically, from both sides mind you, and determine what a more reasonable response would have been on my part. And the Grandmother found the whole thing amusing, I think, and, uh, 'encouraged' me to comply. Frankly, I wonder if she wasn't just a little tired of him herself, and was looking for a way to 'encourage' him to move on." 

Maude asked, "and just what happened, Caeide?" There was so much they didn't know about Caeide during those years, though they learned more and more all the time.

The young woman flushed deeply, "well, I don't know that it's all that interesting . . ." only to get a laugh from her parents and the older of her family.

Michael shook his head in amusement, "no, not at all, big sister, an all out fist-fight in the middle of a dance is not interesting at all. Patrick, I think you saw and heard more than most of us, at least first-hand. Why don't you tell it?" and Caeide's protests were overridden.

Peter was intrigued at the fast, almost apologetic look she'd sent over to him, and resolved to listen closely. He never remembered her writing anything to him about anything like what they were discussing, and thought it might be enlightening. There was a lot he was still learning about his Caeide; he sometimes thought he might just figure her out in about another hundred years or so if he paid close attention. He was in no hurry; he figured they had time and he was content with that.

"Well, Cousin Robin had Bonded with a very nice man from outside, and he had adapted well to Clan ways. He had an older sister who was fair tolerable, though I don't know I'd have wanted her around on a permanent basis. Outlander of course. The main problem was in her two kids, Elizabeth and Richard, both in their late teens, who accompanied her to a Clan gathering; she was occupied with visiting with her brother and getting to know her new sister-in-law; they were bored and snotty and annoying as anything."

"Well, it was no secret Caeide had Bonded during her Internship, the year before, although Ta-Shea, the one sided bonding, not the dual sided Ta-Ket bonding; the Clan had gotten over the surprise and most didn't think much about it. As a result, though, Caeide wasn't getting involved in any of the mixing and matching games of the other un-Bonded ones, but occupying herself otherwise, helping with this or that, making music, all sorts of things. Well, those kids heard a bit of that and somehow got it all intermixed with Outlander stuff in their minds, I suppose, or maybe they were just the trouble-making sort by nature." 

"So - the final day of the gathering, we're all in little groups here and there, chatting, relaxing before the big meal and the dancing to follow, that would be the end of the event. The gathering had included all of the Clan who were close and able to come, not so many as some, but enough to make a goodly crowd, so it was maybe a hundred or more, all ages, not counting the babies."

"One of our Cousins, Margot, had had twins not long before, and not an easy time of it; her Bond-mate was away trying to organize their living quarters and set up his new job at their prospective enclave since she wasn't up for traveling much yet, and everyone had attempted lending a hand with the babes, just tiny wee ones barely three months old, who were a bit colicky and fretful."

"Those two trouble-makers waltzed over in front of some of us, and started making comments, not directed to us, you understand, but to each other, loud enough to make sure we could hear. Caeide had been helping Margot a lot, and had pretty much had one or other of the young ones with her the whole time, in a sling across her back or in her arms no matter what else she was doing. Seems she could keep them from fretting and fussing better than just about anyone else, so she just kept rotating them, soothing first one then the other, returning the drowsing one to its mother, taking whichever awoke and needed tending, and I assure you Margot was most grateful for the help. Well, those two, seems they'd gotten the idea, or at least were saying so, whether they truly believed it or not, that one of those two babes was HERS, from her Internship with Peter, you know," grinning over at Peter, whose shocked face told them, no, he had NOT heard this story before.

"So they were making comments, and we heard later, had BEEN making comments, about how dreadfully 'common' it was of our family, having a young barely-teenage girl come home unwed and pregnant and the family trying to turn it into something else, something less disgraceful. Seems the two had come up with the notion that the Clan was making up some utter nonsense about a rare Bonding to justify her not being one of those to be sought out as a potential Bond-mate, when obviously no man would want a 'soiled dove' for a mate, and that the Clan had made Caeide palm off her own babe on poor Margot, who 'surely has enough to deal with with her OWN sickly child, much less raising someone else's bastard, just because of them being born so close together to be able to pass as twins!' They made the point that Caeide always had that babe in her arms, and he'd cry when anyone else tried to hold him, and that just proved it!"

Peter was finding himself angry, and had to give himself a little shake and remind himself none of that had been true, that he'd never touched Caeide, she'd certainly not gone home pregnant, and would never have turned over her own child to someone else, not if he knew her like he thought he did. Still, if either of those two had been in front of him now, well . . .!

"Well, Caeide, once she got over the shock of what they were saying, wouldn't let us take up the matter with them, and she could hardly do so, not with a wee babe in her arms. I know she felt it sharply, from the look on her face as she cuddled that babe closer to her, like she was protecting him from their maliciousness, kissed him on his head, but did nothing else then. But later, in the midst of the dancing, when both babes were safely with Margot, Caeide waded right in and took on the both of them. First with words, then when the female slapped her, with fists. Robin's sister-in-law left the gathering in red-faced embarrassment, both her offspring leaving with her, bruised and bloody; while the broken nose might have improved her son's looks, the same couldn't be said for her daughter's."

"Father John took up the matter with the Grandmother, AND with the classes he was teaching, and the upshot was big sister having to present her arguments - the logic behind those two and their words and actions, the logic behind hers. I think he expected her to end the dissertation with an apology for acting in such an illogical and inappropriately unforgiving manner, and for awhile it looked like that might be the case."

"Oh, she laid it all out, well enough, them being Outlanders not familiar with our ways, the age of the babes and their obvious affinity for her, the so-rare Bonding for which there was little physical proof, the nature of men and women and the pull of lust on even the most well-intentioned - oh, all that and much, much more. She detailed that claiming such a Bonding would have been a logical step in the eyes of an Outlander, though not one a Clan member would elect to take, and the having a family member rear the child, also logical at its base, especially given that a parentless Clan child was always adopted within the Clan. She laid out that Bondings during Internship were not unknown, and children had often come from that time, on and on."

"I've never heard anything quite so well done from someone not specializing in that field, every logical argument, every reasoning firmly in place. Even at the end, when she stated what her logical, reasonable action should have been, (based, as she was very clear to state, solely on the precepts of such logic and reason), she was very calm, very matter-of-fact."

"She ended, and Father John frowned, and said, "are you not forgetting the last, the reason or reasons you did NOT follow that logical course of action?" She frowned back at him, haughty and stern, nose in the air - I swear, the Grandmother couldn't have done it better! "I should think the mere fact that I did NOT elect to follow that course of action should be both clear and sufficient. I am Clan, neither a Jesuit nor a philosophical logicist, Father John. I might be aware of your beliefs and practices, able to parrot them quite effectively, but they are not mine. My reasons were more than adequate for me. I doubt you'd want to hear them, and I know you'd not agree with them, but then . . ." and shrugged with a more than obvious contempt."

"Well, he didn't think that was acceptable as an answer, especially her so obvious dismissal of the importance of whether he would agree with her reasoning, and so she laid out her reasons, and while I doubt he ever understood, not being Clan, the rest did. I think he found it most annoying, that she could lay out such a convincing argument for taking what he considered the 'appropriate' action, but then knowingly and willingly decide to take such a different course, and for what he felt was such an inappropriate reason. That she had chosen to make known her reason in his class, he seemed to take as an insult, though it was all at his own insistance, so we all felt his being angry seemed very illogical and unreasonable for a man who taught logic and reason. And the fact that the class and the rest of the Clan so obviously approved of her actions, well, that proved the impetus for his packing up and leaving at the end of term, I believe. I believe the words 'uncivilized' and 'barbaric' were mentioned in his letter of resignation. No one missed him all so very much, I know that." 

Maude spoke up, "but what WERE your reasons, Caeide, if I might ask, other than that temper of yours?" Maude thought Caeide might have been driven to defend Peter and the unfair allegations against him; she'd done that more than once, after all.

Caeide laughed a bit sheepishly, "the temper, certainly, but my reason was rather basic, far too basic and most especially, far too Clan for Father John to accept. What they said, it hurt me, and that shocked me because I wasn't expecting it to. Oh, not with what they'd said about the Clan being 'common', or about me being a 'soiled dove', that none from the Clan would seek me out, or my imposing on Margot, even their aspersions about Peter; none of that was true and I might have been willing to just put that against them being Outlanders. It was just," and she paused and to their surprise they could see the sheen of tears in her eyes as she relived the emotion of that moment, "just for a moment, holding Margot's babe in my arms, hearing them, the hurt seemed to be that it WASN'T true, that that wee morsel wasn't mine, that that sweet sharing had never happened, and it was like they were taunting me that not only WASN'T it true, it would likely never BE true. And I felt such an overwhelming sense of loss. And THAT, it was unexpected and caught me totally by surprise; after all, I'd been doing what I thought was quite well with coping with my Bond. But suddenly, that hurting that I felt, it was more than I could let them get away with causing. So I hurt them right back; that was the reasoning Father John was so appalled at. So 'uncivilized', so 'barbaric'. I think you can safely say I flunked Logic and Reason 101."

She smiled ruefully over at Peter, and at Andrew, then with a totally different smile at the twin cradles at her feet, Jamie and Louisa peacefully sleeping through all the stories and conversation. Peter got up from his protected niche and moved through all the others, now out in the open, toward her, the others making way to give him free passage, him reaching her and pulling her up into his arms, not saying a word, just holding her, head bending over hers. And Andrew joined them on the other side, and they sat down together on the bench others had vacated in order to leave them space, each touching the other, the cradles touching each of them, and peace settled upon them, deep and resolute.

The evening ended on a slightly hysterical note, when Andrew, being Andrew, brought up the subject of that song, those verses Caeide and Caeide's sister and brothers had written after she'd returned from her Internship. He'd gotten some idea about those verses when Meghada had spent time in the camp, but Peter, for some reason, had been adamant that she NOT sing any of them. Well, everyone who had written verses was sitting in the room, and it just seemed to him an ideal time for a little music.

It was tempting, the three who'd written such impudent words agreed later, and Andrew was most sincere in his request and the others would have enjoyed it, the ones who'd heard the song at the time and those who yet hadn't. However, the warning in Peter's eyes had been as loud and clear as if he'd shouted to the rooftop. Reluctantly, Michael determined now was not the time, that he might best give his brother-in-law, the one described ever so clearly and extravagently in that song, a private rendition first. Perhaps Peter might be more accepting of a public performance then. Michael took a considering sip of his whiskey, remembering those verses, and a wry and slightly rueful grin came to his face. {"No, I rather doubt it, though it's worth a try, I suppose. Surprisingly conservative he is, even still."}


End file.
